see past me (aew, britt/maki)
Jun. 21st, 2025 02:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fiachairecht posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thelonelylakesee past me. all elite wrestling, britt/maki, maki & nick. the spaces where britt should be. 205w, rated t.
They don't have a word for it, the person who should have been your tag partner but wasn't. Isn't. A ghost, Maki thinks sometimes — a haunting, no less visible for all she's tried to bury that vacant part of her.
She feels it over the years, every time her tongue pokes her cheek. Her mouth is empty for all it remembers how to open in the shape of Britt's hand. The jar of teeth Britt gave her after their first match sits on Maki's desk, half-full of bones that shimmer whem the light catches them. She can't add to it alone.
She pins girls down, slices across their foreheads with pizza cutters and thinks about cutting through mouths instead, leaving exposed gumlines for Britt to work with.
Maki leaves their bodies in the middle of the ring: blood still warm, mouths untouched.
"Hey," Nick says one night, after they've cleaned up and could be any two friends at a no-name bar. Maki's chewing on the toothpick from her martini, each bite a memory of Britt. "You don't need — that was her thing, you know. You can find something just for Maki." Death. Kill.
It should have been theirs. She and Nick have theirs; it would be fine, maybe, if she could have moved from something to something, but how do you leave nothing?
It's spring, it's time for growing things. She could have taken their teeth, sent them to Britt and said — what?
I remember.
It's all she can do.
Sapphic Summer 2025 'teeth'
They don't have a word for it, the person who should have been your tag partner but wasn't. Isn't. A ghost, Maki thinks sometimes — a haunting, no less visible for all she's tried to bury that vacant part of her.
She feels it over the years, every time her tongue pokes her cheek. Her mouth is empty for all it remembers how to open in the shape of Britt's hand. The jar of teeth Britt gave her after their first match sits on Maki's desk, half-full of bones that shimmer whem the light catches them. She can't add to it alone.
She pins girls down, slices across their foreheads with pizza cutters and thinks about cutting through mouths instead, leaving exposed gumlines for Britt to work with.
Maki leaves their bodies in the middle of the ring: blood still warm, mouths untouched.
"Hey," Nick says one night, after they've cleaned up and could be any two friends at a no-name bar. Maki's chewing on the toothpick from her martini, each bite a memory of Britt. "You don't need — that was her thing, you know. You can find something just for Maki." Death. Kill.
It should have been theirs. She and Nick have theirs; it would be fine, maybe, if she could have moved from something to something, but how do you leave nothing?
It's spring, it's time for growing things. She could have taken their teeth, sent them to Britt and said — what?
I remember.
It's all she can do.
